[A writer] should try not to be too far, personally, below the level of his work.

No object is mysterious. The mystery is your eye.

We desert those who desert us; we cannot afford to suffer; we must live how we can.

I pity people who do not care for Society. They are poorer for the oblation they do not make.

The writer, unlike his non-writing adult friend, has no predisposed outlook; he seldom observes deliberately. He sees what he didnot intend to see; he remembers what does not seem wholly possible. Inattentive learner in the schoolroom of life, he keeps some faculty free to veer and wander. His is the roving eye.

Nothing can happen nowhere. The locale of the happening always colours the happening, and often, to a degree, shapes it.

Silences can be as different as sounds.